


Angels Are the Universe's Biggest Dorks

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Fluff, M/M, castiel is a giant dork, dean and cas deserve to be happy okay, dessstiellll, so much Destiel, theyre so gay, v fluffy!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4453082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is in times like this that Dean forgets that Castiel isn't human- he is a hailstorm of stars, the energy of a dying star compressed into the shape of a man.</p><p>Castiel was such a dork, an idiot, a scrawny duckling, it almost felt like he had been human this whole while.</p><p>When did a high-and-mighty Angel get so attached?</p><p>When he fell for the man afraid of falling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Are the Universe's Biggest Dorks

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I am too far into this ship to be healthy. 
> 
> Sighs. 
> 
> You can contact me on my tumblr, @lotriddles, for prompts.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Something Castiel realised early about Dean was that he was afraid of flying. Dean would literally freak at anything to do with flying. Planes, hot air balloons, kites, hell, he was even afraid of heights. Not that he showed it, no, but Castiel dragged him out of perdition, and the only way to do that was to leave the way the first one got in- with the help of the Grace of Angels.

Castiel had fused some of his with Dean's and so he heard every silent prayer Dean thought, and even felt his more powerful twinges of emotion.

For Dean, it was mostly regret, anger and pain. As you can probably tell, Dean was not the most fun person to be emotionally tied to, but Castiel wouldn't have it any other way.

However, despite being privy to some of the more intimate details of Dean Winchester, Castiel could not understand just why Dean was so afraid of flying.

It came to him, suddenly, when he was fighting off a horde of possessed rabbits (which apparently, were the best way to get to six year-olds and _eat_ them, and idea Castiel found horribly sickening), and somehow they got pushed onto the roof.

(Hey, you try fighting off a hundred demonic rabbits- it sounds much easier than it looks), and halfway slicing a rabbit in half Castiel felt the heart palpitations from Dean that came from being too high off the floor.

Castiel longed for nothing more than to rush to his side and bring him down, but there were at least fifty rabbits with razor sharp teeth blocking him from achieving that task.

They continue fighting, Dean noticeably slower, when the waves of the rabbits part down the middle and a tall, pale man with long limbs stands in the middle.

He grins at them, and it is all the challenge they need to lunge for him.

Going back in his head, Castiel still is not sure when it happened, only that when it did it hurt. Somehow, he had missed the rabbits (and by god, those were some smart rabbits), creeping up on him.

They jumped him and Castiel got pushed to the edge of the roof, just when Dean succeeded in driving a stake into the tall figure.

Dean turned- he could see it again, over and over, and his mouth forms Castiel's name.

The rabbits let off their pushing, but the large one in the middle, presumably the alpha, hangs onto the thread of an unknown song and leaps right for him- but Castiel does not notice.

He is too busy listening to Dean's prayer.

_Don't you dare die, Cas._

Who knew rabbits were so heavy? The alpha hits him right in the middle of the chest and Castiel topples over the side of the seven story apartment building with a surprised "oh."

Dean howls Castiel's name, and as the wind shoves it's grabby fingers through his hair, it occurs to him that Dean isn't afraid of flying, he is afraid of _falling_.

Castiel hits the ground so hard the asphalt cracks, but he is an Angel, and he merely stands up through the pain and brushes chips of concrete off his shoulders.

However, Dean took it harder than he did, because at night, when he lay awake and read a book instead of sleeping like a human, he could still hear Dean's prayer, one he was saying unconscious in his sleep.

_Why won't you fly, Cas?_

**XxX**

Castiel knows. Well, he knows enough, but he is just not sure how to walk up to Dean and go, "you know, you pray to me a lot, you just do it subconsciously, so now I kinda know you're in love with me, but that is okay, cause I love you too!"

He is sure the pizza man would have not said as much.

So far, all he could gather from human courtship was that it involved candles, misinterpreting holy days for cheap cardboard hearts that don't resemble that part of the human anatomy at all, and a lot of store-bought magazines with the words _PLAYBOY_  and _MENS WEEKLY_ emblazoned on the cover.

Dean had a whole stack under his bed.

Castiel shelves that problem to the back of his mind, the main reason being he had a book in his hand about Armageddon, it was lightly snowing outside and a fire was crackling in the hearth (perks of being an Angel 101- instant fire, anywhere, anytime), and he was wearing Dean's old grey sweater which smelt like motor oil and coffee and was simply divine.

He set his cup of tea down on the coffee table and settled into a comfortable armchair, glad to have no cases for a day, where he could simply relax.

Dean walks into the room not a few seconds later, before staring at the figure seated in the armchair.

Castiel's hair was permanently mussed up to look as if he'd just had sex, and his blue eyes, always a little sad, stared down intently at a book, which Dean read to be "Good Omens" by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.

He felt an overwhelming rage fill him at the side of this goddamn dork, acting all fucking cute. Hell, he's even biting his lip and oh Lord does Dean want to jump him right there.

Castiel glances up and cocks his head at Dean, smiling slightly, his blue eyes fucking shining, and holy shit Dean was so angry that he was so _goddamn_ cute.

"Something the matter, Dean?"

Dean bristles. "You know what? Fuck you."

Castiel starts, because the emotions he's reading off Dean is an overwhelming barrage of anger and joy at the same time. Because of him, he realises with a start. Because of what he does to Dean. Castiel feels powerful in a way he has never felt before.

"Why?"

"I don't need...this right now! You and your fucking oversized, stolen sweater, and your goddamn book about god knows what- you're a fucking asshole, you know that?! Fucking adorable asshole."

Dean's words trip over one another in their haste to escape.

Castiel merely smiles, serenely, ever the picture of a perfect Angel. "Is that so?"

"Fuck you," Dean deadpans, before heading for the door, the tips of his ears red.

"Dean?" Castiel calls in the most innocent voice he can muster, which gets Dean to turn around slowly and suspiciously.

"What?"

"I might actually take you up on that offer," he drops a wink at the end of it, and waits for the penny to drop.

When it does, Dean's whole face turns red and he practically grins off his face. "Really?"

Castiel stands up and neatly places his book on the coffee table. "You're cute when you blush."

Immediately, Dean's hands move- but not to cover his face, but to flip him the bird.  "Shut up!"

_Fucking finally, Castiel._

**XxX**

Dean is making eggs when hears Castiel walks down the creaky steps of Bobby's house.

He's wearing Dean's shirt (way too big for him, scrawny chicken angel) and a pair of the most horrendous, grandma bottoms. He puts this together with worn out mismatching socks that do nothing but accentuate the ugliness of his ensemble.

He grins at Dean, who waves, holding two eggs in one hand, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. 

Suddenly, Castiel gets a funny look in his eyes, the kind of look that said _I am about to do something ridiculously stupid but I need you to back me up on this one or I will probably die, isn't this fun?_

 Dean narrows his eyes at his boyfriend (hum hallelujah!) and shakes his head slowly.

Castiel backs up two steps, his feet slipping out in front of the other like a runner's, and Dean's mouth goes on autopilot. "Cas- Cas, no, I am holding eggs, eggs-"

Castiel takes a running start and slides across the tiles to Dean, arms outstretched.

Dean, in order to prevent him from smacking into a stove, would have to catch him.

He makes a split-second decision and drops the eggs (which miraculously land in the bowl, amen), and ropes his arms around Castiel's waist, almost lifting him up, breathing in his permanent scent of honey, and oddly, pie. 

"You-you just wasted two eggs!" Dean says into Castiel's ear, trying to sound indignant, but what came out was a breathy laugh and a tightening of his arms.

"Good aim, though," Castiel shrugs, before moving to the fridge and pulling out a whole dozen.

_You're such a dork._

"I will take that as a complimemt, Dean," Castiel winks, a gesture he is almost fond of, bloody hell, before whisking off to rinse the bowl with the broken eggs.

Dean stares, mystified.

It is in times like this that Dean forgets that Castiel isn't human- he is a hailstorm of stars, the energy of a dying cosmos compressed into the shape of a man.

Castiel was such a dork, an idiot, a scrawny duckling, it almost felt like he had been human this whole while.

_When did a high-and-mighty Angel get so attached?_

_When he fell for the man afraid of falling._


End file.
